Caprice
by braille upon my skin
Summary: "Teddy nods and settles back into place in his dad's armchair. He stares at the numbers and equations printed out in Pete's neat, blocky handwriting on a sheet of notebook paper until they all blur together, becoming an even more incomprehensible mess. Tension churns his stomach, bubbling up to ensnare his chest in a vise-like grip. This is all so… lame." Teddy/Pete


_Caprice_

Getting old.

It isn't an every day occurrence. Not by a long shot. But, sometimes Teddy Sanders catches himself staring a little too hard at his reflection. Subconsciously, perhaps, he's looking for frown lines, crow's feet, gray hairs- whatever the hell it is old people have that differentiate them from young people.

 _Cool_ people.

People whose glory days aren't far behind them, leaving them with nothing to look forward to but onsetting arthritis, shriveled skin, being called "lame", and laughed at by twenty-somethings, and, probably the most tragic of all, not being able to get it up, anymore.

He sure as hell wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even Pete, the fucking nerd- especially not after he vehemently denied Pete's "diagnosis" that he was obsessed with the old couple next door because he was worried about what the future had in store for him- but… Teddy may have had a nightmare about engaging Mac Radner, one of those "old people next door", in a dance off, and throwing his back out in the middle of one of his killer moves.

It's stupid, of course. Shit, girls hit on him all the time at Abercrombie. And, it isn't the kind of girls that have daddy issues, either.

But, even when he was the president of the Delta Psi fraternity, deeply immersed in the sense of brotherhood, in the family that he chose, the family that doesn't get divorced, even when he was plotting some of the raddest parties this side of Ardendale, even when he was a goddamn supernova, there was some part of him deep, deep down inside, that recognized that he and Pete were the oldest guys in Delta Psi.

That, at least for the two of them, this would all be coming to an end far too soon.

And, while Pete was actually going to his classes and scoring major successes at the college job fair, Teddy was… "Getting left behind", sounds whiny. "Floundering", might be too dramatic. Whatever you'd call it, it gave him a sinking feeling in his chest. The same feeling he had when that asshole at the AT&T booth said he was "too dumb", for the job. That same feeling he had when the grill he violently launched off the porch went rocketing into the Economics professor, and Pete was MIA at the meeting with the dean, the next day. And, the same feeling that also punched him dead-center in the gut when he watched Pete and Brooke go upstairs, hand in hand.

Teddy finishes combing through his hair with his hand, his search for gray hairs thankfully fruitless. With a last wink at his reflection, he exits his bedroom and races down the stairs. He has no idea what he's worried about.

He's not old. No way. He's still hot, still young, still single…

This thought gives him pause.

That's right, he's _single_. After the whole violation of the Bro Code fiasco, his and Pete's reconciliation, and Pete's graduation, Teddy broke up with Brooke. Some tears were shed, but he heard from Gary that Brooke hooked up with Scoonie not even a day later. Teddy supposes that he can't be mad at her, or feel betrayed by Scoonie. The dude's cock is legendary. He managed to bed that one old lady who was friends with Mac and Kelly Radner, and the even older lady across the street, Mrs. Haywood. Teddy can't say he approves- he would have gone for Kelly, himself- but it's Scoonie's dick. Not his.

Thinking about dicks is one more thing that brings Pete to mind, which should probably weird Teddy out, but, strangely enough, _doesn't_. Pete has that ridiculous, amazing ability; the one he used on Teddy during their fight, and recalling the sensation of Pete's dick in his hand, hardening under his touch, makes Teddy's palm tingle and heat flash into his stomach.

Fuck, he's lame.

"Hey man, what's goin' on? You coming?" Pete pokes his head around the corner. His glasses, which Teddy teases him for because they really make him look like a fucking nerd, albeit a _cute_ fucking nerd, are perched on his nose.

"Yeah, dog." Teddy knows better than to waste Pete's valuable time, and his valuable brain. When he comes over for these study sessions, it's time to get serious. After all, Teddy doesn't want to be stuck going to night school longer than he has to, and Pete has fancy architect shit he could be doing, instead. "Did you want me to order that pizza, or were you going to?" He asks as he enters the living room at his parents' place. They were kind enough to let him bunk with them until he could save up enough money to get his own house.

And, they always seem to conveniently have somewhere else to be when Pete shows up.

Teddy almost gets the feeling that they're hinting at something.

"Already got it covered, man," Pete assures him with that smile that has always managed to hit Teddy right in the heart, even back when they were freshmen.

"You're so fucking smart, dude." Teddy grins. "Always thinking ahead."

Pete shrugs, and maybe Teddy's imagining it, but it looks like he's blushing, as well. "Everyone knows you can't think on an empty stomach."

"Shit, could've told me that before I went and flunked some of those exams." Teddy gives Pete a light smack on the back of the head. They both know he would have failed, even on a full stomach, but Pete is too nice, too cool of a dude to say this out loud.

"I would've told you if you came to class. I'm telling you, you missed out on some really awesome shit, man." Pete grins, his nose crinkling slightly in his excitement. "3-D printers. They're gonna revolutionize everything from architecture to makeup!"

Teddy feels an affectionate smile tugging at his lips. He doesn't quite understand how 3-D printers work, but he saw Pete put one to use when they needed to make Delta Psi dildos to sale to repair the damage done to their fraternity house by a busted water main, and buy a kick ass hot tub. And, if Pete is this psyched about something, then Teddy can be psyched about it, as well.

The subject they're studying is Trigonometry. If the ease with which Pete goes about reciting formulas and showing Teddy step by step how to get the correct answer is anything to go by, this level of math is remedial as hell for him.

For the first time since he decided to go out like a supernova for his brothers, for Pete, Teddy finds himself feeling inferior.

He doesn't have Pete's brain. He has a body that looks like a giant arrow pointing to his dick. Yeah, that's an awesome attribute to have if he wants to spend the rest of his life being a shirtless model for Abercrombie, but…

There's a knock at the door, and Teddy jumps to his feet.

"Don't sweat it, bro. I've got it," Pete says.

Teddy nods and settles back into place in his dad's armchair. He stares at the numbers and equations printed out in Pete's neat, blocky handwriting on a sheet of notebook paper until they all blur together, becoming an even more incomprehensible mess. Tension churns his stomach, bubbling up to ensnare his chest in a vise-like grip. This is all so… _lame_.

Pete returns with the box of pizza and sets it down on the table. "I don't know about you, man, but I'm fucking starving."

When Teddy doesn't reply, he feels Pete eyeing him, concern creeping into his voice. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Teddy shrugs him off.

"Teddy."

Teddy sighs, turning to meet his friend's intense brown eyes.

"Psychology minor," Pete reminds him, one eyebrow arced. He reaches out to pat Teddy on the thigh. "Come on. Tell me what's eating at you."

He wants to say it's nothing, but looking into Pete's eyes, seeing the earnest compassion there, Teddy can't bring himself to push Pete away again. "You ever feel like, maybe, you're supposed to be more than what you are?"

Pete pulls back, eyes stretching wide. "Dude. Is your job at Abercrombie _that_ bad?"

"No. Just…" Teddy sighs, shifting his weight in the chair. "How the fuck do I say this?" He mutters to himself. He glances back at his friend and tries again, delving into himself to extract what he hopes is the right wording. "It's like… like there's something, I don't know… _missing_ , I guess?"

"You haven't had a girlfriend in a while," Pete offers. "Maybe you're just lonely."

 _No, Pete, you goddamned know-it-all._ Teddy bites the words back. With all of the girls who have stopped to chat him up outside of the doors and in the storeroom at Abercrombie, he's pretty sure if he was looking for a girlfriend, he would have one, by now. Something else manages to slip out, however. "Well, how about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. Are you seeing anyone, Mr. Fancy Architect?"

Pete is definitely blushing, now. "There is someone I've had my eye on for a while."

Forcing himself to ignore the way the admission causes his throat to constrict and his heart to feel suddenly heavy, like a weight just came crashing down on it, Teddy lays a hand on the shorter man's knee and jostles his leg lightly. "So? Why don't you go get her?"

Pete gives him a dry smile and shakes his head. "That's not gonna happen."

"Why's that?" Teddy studies his friend's face. He can feel tension crackling in the air around them. Shivers dance up his arm from where his hand rests on Pete's leg. It occurs to him how close he is to Pete's crotch, to Pete's cock and its ability to spring into an erection at will, and he pulls away. Heat immediately rushes into his cheeks.

Why is he acting like this, today? He and Pete have spooned, before. They've passed out on the couch, and Teddy's bed, after a few more wild parties, and Teddy has woken up the next morning, groggy, his head throbbing with a killer migraine, to find Pete's head on his chest, or his own head on Pete's shoulder, on several occasions. They shared a dorm room during freshman year, and used to jerk off in the same living space. Pete has rode piggy-back on Teddy. Touching his best friend _shouldn't_ have Teddy bitching out.

He's not a "no homo" guy. He's made out with and given handjobs to other dudes. He crossed streams with Mac. He pulled the moulding material off of Garf's dick and looked him in the eyes while doing it. He cuddled with Gary to console him after the pledge confessed that Mac and Kelly had put him up to filming Teddy "hazing him until his fucking face falls off". And, he's had more than a few dreams involving Pete's ass.

But, today…

Maybe he's hungrier than he thought.

As if he's read Teddy's mind, Pete leaps to his feet. "Look, the pizza's getting cold. Why don't we just-"

"No." Teddy surprises himself with his protest. Before he can rein himself in, however, he's on his feet and more words come gushing out. "That's not fair, man. You don't get to open me up like a book, only to turn around and shut me out. Who is this girl? Who is dumb enough to not go for the smartest guy I've ever known?"

Pete seems to find the carpet fascinating. He mumbles something indiscernible.

"What?" Teddy presses. He's not sure when his heart started beating so fast, but he can feel his pulse in his temples.

"S-Some girl I work with, okay? Her name's Rebecca."

"Oh." Teddy pretends he doesn't feel the disappointment gnawing at him, the weird sinking feeling in his stomach. He thought… No, it doesn't matter what he thought. "She hot?" He asks, slapping on a smile that he's almost certain looks as fake as it feels.

"Yeah." Pete nods, holding Teddy's gaze. He smiles softly. "Obscenely."

"Well…" Teddy swallows. He forces his voice to be steady. "She'd better wake up, then, and realize how awesome you are. I'll vouch for you. Just say the word, and I can call in sick to offer my services as your wing man."

Pete laughs. "That's not gonna be necessary."

Some part of Teddy is relieved to hear this. Another part of him wants to meet this Rebecca and give her an evaluation, make sure that she's good enough for his Pete.

 _His_ …. Pete…?

"Now, come on," Pete says. "Let's get back to this Trig shit. I've got to be up early for work, tomorrow."

"Right." Teddy drops back into the armchair. He wishes he could say that he listened intently and retained all of the information relayed to him, but his brain zeroes in on the way Pete's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin when he amuses himself with his commentary on the subject and anecdotes about his math professor's ass, the intensity of Pete's gaze behind the glasses he wears when he wants to pass himself off as an intelligent and productive member of society, the arch of Pete's spine as he leans forward on the couch to pour over the textbook.

In actuality, Teddy doesn't hear a single word Pete is saying.

When his parents return around eleven PM- _eleven_. What is he? A fucking kid with a curfew, again?- Pete bids them, and Teddy farewell. Teddy embraces his friend and that weird, heavy, stomach-dropping feeling returns.

It doesn't leave as his parents recount their gross bar bathroom sexcapades to him.

It doesn't leave when Teddy turns in for the night. Before sunrise.

He can't tell if this makes him an intelligent and productive member of society, or a pathetic loser.

* * *

Teddy's sleep is fitful. He has a dream about two kids swarming him, latching onto his legs, and calling him "daddy" when he walks through the front door of a big, fancy house. He's wearing a suit and tie, like he has a proper job, and Pete is sitting in the living room, reading a newspaper and drinking from a tea cup.

It's incredibly _domestic_ , and Teddy finds himself unsettlingly okay with the entire set up. More than "okay", even.

Pete stands up to greet him and asks him how his day was.

One of the kids, _their son, his and Pete'_ s, Teddy is certain, grabs Teddy's Delta Psi baseball bat and begins swinging it around, squatting into a crouch, like he's prepared to jump on the furniture. Pete scolds the little "rugrat", but in an incredibly light-hearted manner, because he's Pete and he loves kids, and encourages the boy and his sister to go outside and play in the backyard.

Teddy beams as he watches the kids scamper out the door, and as he turns back to Pete, and yeah. He's definitely more than "okay" with this. He doesn't feel old, or washed up, or like he's pining for his glory days, at all. A warm sensation spreads through his body. It feels like being whole. It feels like contentment.

Then, he wakes up and recalls Pete's admission that he's had his eye on someone for "a while, now".

He called that Rebecca girl "hot". _Obscenely_.

Letting out a groan, Teddy pulls his pillow out from under his head, and puts it over his face. He wishes he could smother the dull, heavy ache in his chest. He kind of wishes he could smother himself, too.

When did he become so _lame_?

* * *

Teddy wakes up at 9:30 AM. He hauls himself out of bed, stumbles groggily into the bathroom, strips down and gets into the shower. In his half-asleep state, with steam clouding around him and hot water streaming onto his back, his mind wanders to the dream he had. He wants to dispel it off-hand, deem it a result of eating too much pizza before bedtime, or a byproduct of that weird, heavy feeling that has been weighing him down and harshing his vibe for what feels like forever, now.

But, he thinks about slinging his arm around Pete's shoulders and pulling him in close, pressing a kiss to Pete's forehead before sending him off to embrace his bright future, and…

 _Fuck Rebecca_.

Teddy jumps out of the shower, barely towels himself off before tugging on some fresh clothes, runs a comb through his wet hair, and sprints through the living room.

"You're up early," his dad remarks without removing his eyes from the TV. "I haven't seen you out of bed before noon since you were in high school."

"I've got important shit to do, dad. Wish me luck," is the only response Teddy can manage as he races out the front door and jumps into his car. He hopes they don't have dress codes at the office.

* * *

"Yo, VP."

Pete's eyes stretch wide behind the lenses of his glasses, like they did when Teddy startled him by feigning like he was going to punch him, at the college job fair. A grin tugs at his lips. "Teddy, man. What-What are you doing here?"

Teddy shrugs, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He reminds himself to play casual. "Just thought I'd stop by to see my best friend."

"Well, hey. You know I'm always happy to see you, but…" Pete trails off. His expression sours as a couple of women stroll by.

Teddy can feel their eyes on his ass. On any other day, especially a few years ago, he might have given the women a thorough appraisal to decide if they were hot enough to fool around with, maybe winked at them, flexed his muscles and put on a show for them. The girls outside of Abercrombie eat that shit up.

Not today, though. Today, he notes the scornful look Pete is aiming at his coworkers' backs, and something occurs to him. "So, where's the hot young thing you've had your eye on?"

Pete is caught off-guard just long enough for Teddy to notice. "Um, who?"

Teddy twitches an eyebrow with just the slightest hint of outward skepticism. Inside, however, things have long since clicked into place. "Rebecca, I believe you said her name was."

"Oh, _Rebecca_! Right, right." Pete's nervous, just like he was before their fight. He's complete shit at playing it cool.

And, Teddy… "Rebecca's not real, is she, Pete?" He presses, lowering his voice. He wants to spare Pete any embarrassment, in the event one of his coworkers decides to be a rude asshole and eavesdrop.

"She, uh-" Pete's grin quavers, proving any show of bravado on his part entirely transparent. He's shit at playing it cool, and a bad liar.

Teddy takes a step into his best friend. For what isn't the first time, he notes that he has a height advantage over Pete. That Pete would have to stand on his toes, or Teddy would have to bend over to- "Is she?"

The jig is up. Teddy can see it in Pete's eyes.

"Look, Teddy… Things got weird and intense, last year. I don't want to-" Pete meets Teddy's eyes, and his words become jumbled. His composure is gone. "I-I _didn't_ want to-"

Teddy takes another step into Pete. "You fucking nerd," he says softly. His heart is thumping, roused in a way no girl, or other dude has ever managed. He lays a hand on Pete's neck, and when Pete doesn't flinch away, leans in, sealing off the distance between them. Pete's body is rigid, at first, but he quickly relaxes, almost melting against Teddy's chest. The feelings Teddy's dream brought on resurge. He wonders, just for a moment, if this is how Mac Radner feels when he comes home to Kelly at the end of a long work day.

Later, as he takes Pete out for lunch, during Pete's break, he thinks about a future with Pete in it.

Maybe, just maybe, getting old isn't such a terrifying prospect, anymore.

* * *

 **A/N: Emulating this lewd writing style for a story was an... interesting experience, but after watching _Neighbors_ a couple of times, I simply _had_ to write something about Teddy/Pete. **

**I hope you guys enjoy, or, at the very least, don't mind the change up from my usual fare, and that this little story wasn't too awful.**

 **My next work will be Tryan-related, as usual. I hope you'll stick around to check it out. :)**


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